Secrets
by kittyhere
Summary: Secrets. Everyone has them. But no one would ever expect this group of Hogwartians to have such dark ones. But then again, everyone has a secret that they so, so desperately want hidden. (Gets dark, be careful, may trigger)
1. Harry Potter

_**WARNING! MAY BE TRIGGERING WARNING!**_

Harry Potter

Harry looked down off the Astronomy Tower yet again. He sat on the ledge, thinking of the many reasons he should just jump. He caused death all around him. Everyone he got close to was in danger. Sirius, Dumbledore, his mom and dad, Hedwig, Mad-Eye, Dobby, Tonks, Lupin, Colin, Lavender, Snape… They were all dead and it was Harry's fault. He wanted to die. He just didn't… _care _anymore. He had been up here a lot in the past few months, each time talking himself out of actually going through with it. Maybe people would miss him. Ron might. He was, after all, Harry's best mate. But maybe he blamed Harry for Fred's death, as Harry did. Hermione! But she probably blamed him for her parent's death, as they had died shortly after the war from run away death eaters.

Harry wandered up close to the ledge of the tower. He shivered as cool wind brushed past his vulnerable skin, causing goose bumps. All the way up here, the stars stared him in the face, daring him to do what he'd bee trying to do since he came back to Hogwarts to do his Seventh year over. Once again, he backed away. The full moon shined down on him, but the light was cold, unforgiving. Hateful, even. Harry's teeth chattered as he stepped up onto the ledge again, his hair rippling in the breeze. His hand went to his scar. He crunched, ready to jump, and he almost did before-

Harry, panicked, desperately threw himself backwards. His head cracked against the stone of the floor of the Astronomy Tower. He sat up, agitatedly rubbing the back of his head. He let out a shaky breath. That was the closest he had ever come to actually throwing himself off.

He'd been trying to do himself off for a while now. He stood up weakly, looking over the edge again. He backed away hurriedly, running down the long staircase, back to Gryffindor Tower, shaking. He got into bed hurriedly, and fell asleep with his clothes on.

Harry Potter was suicidal.


	2. Draco Malfoy

_**WARNING! MENTIONS OF ABUSE IN THIS CHAPTER WARNING! **_

Draco lay on his bed, clutching his wrist and breathing heavily. He sat up and forced himself to look at himself in the mirror. His breath hitched what he saw his state. He had a large black eye, a deep gash across his chest, and a broken wrist. Not to mention the after affects of the cruciatus curse he was currently experiencing. He groaned and pressed his one good fist to his eye. He went back to Hogwarts in a week. How was he supposed to explain this to Blaise? Or Pansy? They were already suspicious enough from when they had seen the large scar on his back. He couldn't tell them. Not yet.

But they were his best friends! Surely they deserved to know! _What would you tell them?_ A nasty little voice asked in his head. _That your daddy hits you? Pathetic. Malfoy's are stronger than that. _Draco shivered. He could survive. He had already survived sixteen years. One more year and he'd be gone.

He slowly let himself lower back down onto his bed, groaning as the comforter rubbed against his aching back. Anger suddenly filled him. Why did nobody see? He wanted help so badly. He was just too ashamed to admit it. He swallowed down a sob and listened to his father entertain one of his women guests in the bedroom next door. His mother was probably drinking and crying somewhere. Meanwhile, he was laying on his bed, filled with pain and anger. New scars formed on his body and in his brain. They may fade but would never be gone.

Draco Malfoy was abused.


	3. George Weasley

_Your sick._

_Disgusting._

_It's your fault he's dead!_

_Ignoring us?_

"Leave me ALONE!" George said angrily. He walked faster. He finally reached the joke shop and slid the key into the front. He walked in and smelled the unique scent of the store. It was something between gun smoke and sweet candy. It was the first time opening the store since the war. Now inside, he swallowed a lump in his throat. He had put off opening the store as long as he could. It reminded him too much of Fred.

_Missing him?_

_You deserve it._

_Your fault._

George shook his head angrily. The voices were being especially bad today. They had started out right after Fred had died. At first, George thought it was maybe a coping device for him because for a while, they sounded and acted like Fred. As it continued, they just became cruel. George would sit with himself and argue with them for hours. He still did.

_You should have saved him!_

_You don't deserve this place._

_Not after you let him down._

It took all George's strength not to retort. Not in public. People would think he was crazy. George gave a low chuckle, and turned the closed sign to the open side. These voices would kill him, someday. For now, he had to make sure that kid didn't pickpocket that fake wand.

George Weasley was disturbed.


	4. Neville Longbottom

**Hi guys! In the comments, let me know who you would like me to do next! I'll definitely consider your requests! Please review and let me know what you think.**

Neville Longbottom

Neville lay in his bed, once again refusing to close his tired eyes. He knew they were bloodshot and his whole body was crying for sleep. But he just couldn't sleep. He knew that if he slept, the nightmares would come. The one's where his parents would scream and cry but never break under Bellatrix Lestrange's hand, how they would beg for mercy, but never give up. He hated it. Not to get him wrong, he was extremely proud of his parents, and not ashamed at all like his gran seemed to think but… He just couldn't help thinking about it. Not since he was a baby had he felt his mother's warm touch, or heard his father's booming laugh…

He remembered one time, as a baby, they had gone to the park. It had been one of the best days of his life. He had played and laughed to his hearts content. All of it had been stolen from him the night his parents had been driven slowly, tortuously insane by remaining Death Eaters. And now he was forced to relive it every night in his dreams. Neville once again kept himself awake all night, knowing his marks would drop further. Just yesterday he had ruined another cauldron in potions because of his fatigue.

But he couldn't sleep. He couldn't rewatch, couldn't relive. Not again, or ever. It was much to painful. No, it was much easier to not sleep, and not go through that horrible pain again…

Neville Longbottom was an insomniac.


	5. Ron Weasley

**Took a request from **_**Fire The Canon! **_**Here's a chapter based on Ron. Please, please review, and any other requests, PLEASE let me know! Hope you enjoy!**

Ron Weasley

Ron staggered home, hands twitching nervously and vision quite foggy. He didn't know when it had started, really. It had been in a random muggle bar somewhere. He almost hadn't been able to without out ID, but having brothers like Fred and George taught you tricks.

He did know exactly why it had started though.

The locket Horcrux had been the tipping point, if he was to be truthful. Then Fred had been killed. And he was just so tired of being the ginger. The Weasel. Harry Potter's best friend. Never just: Hey, there's Ron. He's a pretty cool kid!

Then there was his fear that his mother loved Harry more than him, just like everyone else. He was worried over Hermione leaving him. After all, he was just Ron. The Chosen One's sidekick.

So he found it easier to forget for a while. While he drank, everything became simpler. He didn't have to think about how Harry was better than him. How much his mother and Hermione loved Harry. How Fred was dead. How stupid and useless he was. After all, Hermione was the brains. Harry was the heart. What was Ron? The tag-along side-kick.

He continued down the street, staggering and tripping over everything and nothing.

After all, Ron Weasley was a drunk.


	6. Hermione Granger

**Hey! Another request, here's Hermione's chapter. Please keep sending in your comments, and any other requests, let me know!**

_**Warning! May Trigger! Warning!**_

Hermione Granger

Hermione knelt over the toilet bowl, feeling nauseated. Once she was done, she flushed the remnants of her lunch down the toilet. She wanted to rush back down to the Great Hall again and eat.

No Hermione! She told herself. Just a little while longer. Then you'll be down to the right dress size. Guys will talk to for a reason other than to copy your homework. You'll be able to look pretty. You won't be the bookworm.

Hermione shivered as she walked out into the common room. There was her boyfriend Ron, and eyeing him- None other than Lavender Brown. Hermione's stomach dropped harshly. Another one of her fears. That Ron would go back to Lavender. Drop Hermione because she wasn't skinny enough, or pretty enough. She swooped over and planted herself beside Ron, who smiled warmly with her. She could feel Lavender's gaze piercing her. If look's could kill, Hermione knew she'd be dead.

Hermione smiled grimly to herself. Soon she wouldn't be threatened by Lavender anymore. She'd be skinny and perfect and Ron wouldn't lie to her anymore about how nice she looked, because he wouldn't have to. Hermione's plan was flawless. Dirty, maybe, but the outcome would be perfect. Hermione would be beautiful.

Hermione Granger was bulimic.


	7. Lavender Brown

Hey! Big thanks to _Fire The Canon, _who has commented on every one of my chapters so far. Hope you guys like this one, it was actually really easy to write. Let me know what you thought in the comments.

Lavender Brown

Don't look at them! Lavender scolded herself, forcing her head away from the cuddling couple. She squinted down at her homework, but could make no sense out of what she was reading. Sighing, she looked back up, the couple once again catching her eye. How could they not, when one of the two's hair was a bright orange?

Lavender turned to look at the exact moment Ron had turned in her direction, not looking at her, but at Hermione, his mouth open wide in a laugh. Lavender had always loved his laugh. She shook herself yet again. She remembered telling Parvati about her lingering feelings for the ginger. Paravti had told her she'd have to let him go.

That he and Hermione were perfect for each other.

That Lavender _better not _try to break them up.

Lavender, to say the least, had been hurt. Did her friend really think that lowly of her as to believe she'd break up the world's best couple? Yes, even Lavender could see it. The two idiots belonged together. No matter how much she cared for the male of the two.

She remembered finally getting to kiss him in sixth year. How their lips had molded together so perfectly. How she had liked him since fourth, but never thought they'd be together. And then, she had foolishly let herself fall in love. Never stopping to think that maybe, just maybe… He didn't like her as much as she'd thought.

Had she been too clingy? Not pretty enough? Had she just simply paled in comparison to Hermione? She remembered how her heart had broken as Ron had whispered Hermione's name instead of hers in the Hospital Wing. She had ran out sobbing, no one coming to see if she was alright. She had cried for the longest time, composed herself, and then walked out, trying to appear as if she was over it. Of course she wasn't. She had liked him for three years! Been in love with him. Actually she still was. But they could never actually be together, as he was in love with perfect, pretty, smart, world saving Hermione Granger. Lavender slowly picked up her books. She didn't want to see them together anymore. She ran up the stairs to the girls dormitories, trying her hardest not to scream. She felt as though her heart were crumbling.

After all, Lavender Brown was in love.


	8. Ginny Weasley

Short forward today, nothing much to say actually… Send me in requests for who you'd like me to do next!

_**WARNING! MAY TRIGGER! WARNING!**_

Ginny Weasley

Ginny walked slowly down the staircase to the Gryffindor common room, her heart melting as she saw Harry sitting in an armchair beside Ron and Hermione. She went and took her place beside him, flinching only slightly when he put his arm around her shoulder.

Ginny! She scolded herself. Harry won't hurt you. With this thought she forced herself to relax into him, taking time to notice the people around herself. Hermione looked slightly shaky, as though she was sick. Ron looked as if he was going through a withdrawal of some kind, with dark circles around his eyes and breathing heavily. Harry just looked downright depressed. They all turned as Lavender Brown, Ron's ex girlfriend, jumped up and ran dramatically up the stairs. Ginny frowned. What had her knickers in a twist? She jumped as a loud smashing came from the other side of the room, letting everyone know that Seamus was once again trying to change water into wine. Ginny tried to force her breathing back to normal. Her hands shook as she tried to reclaim control of herself.

1, 2, 3… 1, 2, 3… Ginny repeated this to herself a few more times and realized her small group was staring at her worriedly. "Gin? You ok?" asked Ron. Ginny nodded. "Ya… Fine" She answered, hating herself for the tremor in her voice. She jumped up, possibly as strangely to her friends as Lavender's exit had been to her, and ran up the staircase, calling a brief: "Homework, forgot! Sorry guys!" over her shoulder. She got to her dorm, collapsing on her bed and drawing the curtains around her, tears stinging the corners of her eyes.

Her sixth year. When Voldemort had control of the school. That's when it had happened. As a sick sort of punishment she supposed. All she had done was refuse to use the cruciatus curse on the first years. Exactly as Neville had done. But all that had happened to him was a beating. Ginny only wished that was all that had happened to her. But no, something much worse had gone down. Her hands were tremoring nervously. Wasn't that a side affect? Excessive nervousness? She wouldn't be surprised if it was. After all, you don't walk away from something like she'd had to endure unharmed.

Ginny Weasley was raped.


	9. Blaise Zabini

**Review, tell me what you think, and let me know if you have any ideas for the next chapter! 3**

Blaise Zabini

Blaise tiredly lay down on his soft bed in his dormitory. He sighed, long and loud. It had been a long day. First, Draco had gotten angry at him when Blaise had pestered him about a bruise on his eye, and a nasty looking cut on his forehead. Blaise had flinched back when Draco had started yelling at him for being too interested about his home life. When Blaise, confused, had reminded Draco that he hadn't said anything about his home life, a look of horror had crossed Draco's face and he hadn't talked to Blaise for the rest of the day.

_Then- _as if the day could get much worse, he had failed a potions exam. Blaise pressed his fists into his eyes. He heard the door creak and opened his eyes to see Pansy walk in. She lowered herself down beside him. "Don't stress." She said softly. Blaise groaned. He just wanted to be alone. Pansy sensed this, and after lightly touching his forehead, left.

Seeing Pansy had reminded Blaise that he had to put Daphne to bed tonight. He hated stringing her along, but no one could no his secret. Well- Draco and Pansy knew, and they disapproved of him playing Daphne too, but they wouldn't tell. He really didn't want to do it tonight, but he had found Seamus Finnigan attractive today in potions, which meant he'd have to reinforce the idea that he was straight. Even though he wasn't. If his parents found out, they'd disown him for shaming his family. If the school found out, they'd tease him. If anyone other than Pansy and Draco found out, his life would crumble.

Blaise Zabini was gay.


	10. Lucius Malfoy

**Hi! Please review and let me know what you thought. This one was a little harder to write so… Let me know!**

Lucius Malfoy

"Don't respond, don't respond, don't respond," he muttered to himself. His son had just sent him a copy of a test he had just done. His son had gotten 100% grade. Lucius sighed as he shredded the paper. His gaze drifted to a picture of his family. It was himself, Narcissa, a younger Draco, and Abraxas, Lucius' father. He ran a tired hand over his face as he looked at the picture. It had been so long ago. Draco had been two. Right after the picture had been taken, Abraxas had taken Lucius aside.

"Son." He had said. "I notice something between you and your boy that shouldn't be there." Lucius had cringed. He knew what his father was talking about. "Love is weakness. You will raise your son the same way I raised you." His father was a stern man, and believed in old teachings. Old Pureblood teachings, to be exact. Don't misunderstand. Lucius Malfoy was a proud man. He believed that Purebloods were best, Malfoy's were better, and that the Dark Lord was the obvious ruler. He did not, however, agree with the strict upbringing after he himself had experienced it. A sharp stinging in his left cheek had brought him back to his situation. His eyes had narrowed, his jaw had tensed, and he had stood straighter. "Father." He had hissed. "I am a grown man." His father had looked him over. "You still look like my son to me." He had said smoothly.

"Now. Love is what?" Lucius sighed. "A weakness, father." Abraxas nodded. "Exactly. I expect to see improvement in you and your son's relationship. Your idiotic wife, too. You are above both of them, and you will prove it. Understand?" Lucius had nodded. The weeks and months after that had been the hardest of his life.

Narcissa had cried a lot, not fully understanding why he was being so cold. She had an idea of course, and had accused him of it. Lucius, for the first time, had hit her. The power that had rushed through his veins as she had wilted back had been terrifying. With Draco it had been even worse. Hearing his boy cry had killed him from the inside out. But again, there was that rush of power. It scared him, if he was to be truthful, but also enthralled him. He had come to enjoy it in the years after. He found he could connect, on some sick level, with his father's train of thought.

He had watched his son wilt and waste away before his eyes, falling down a deep pit of hatred and revenge with no way to get out. Draco, now seventeen, a cruel and angry boy who wouldn't let anyone touch him. A boy who screamed in his sleep and had an IQ of a genius. A talent beaten down until it broke. Lucius groaned. A thought occurred to him that he knew his father would kill him for.

Lucius Malfoy loved his family. And that was something that must never, ever come to light.


	11. Pansy Parkinson

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Pansy Parkinson

All the wrong things. That's all she seemed to be able to get into. Tears dripped down her face as she looked down in horror at the test in her hand. Her parents would disown her. The school would mock her. Society would shame her. Teachers would talk about her. Draco and Blaise would stand by her. And she? She would cry. A lot.

Pansy was afraid. One drink too many at a party and this is where it lands her. She couldn't remember much about that night. She had danced to close to too many guys. One of them had slipped a little something in her drink. She had gotten bolder, danced crazier. Draco had wanted her to leave. Blaise was passed out somewhere. She remembered Draco kept trying to pull her out the door. "You're not yourself!" he had said agitatedly. "Please come on." Pansy had slipped away from him, ignoring his repeated attempts at taking their leave. Her brain had been foggy, her vision impaired. So when that guy she had danced with earlier had begun to lead her up the stairs, she hadn't thought twice.

Well, now she was thinking. Options. What options did she have? She heaved over the toilet, tears and sweat mingling in her hair.

Draco had punched the guy. She remembered that much. She had practically fallen down the stairs into his lap, and in slurred words told her friend what had happened. Ever protective Draco had punched the dude so hard he had lost a tooth. He had then proceeded to yell at her the whole way home, with a drunk, unconscious Blaise in the backseat. Draco didn't drink. He was the responsible one of the trio. She suspected it had something to do with his mother becoming an alcoholic when he was younger, after something had happened between her and his dad, which Draco still wouldn't tell her about.

Pansy continued to cry, now standing up, the test laying forgotten on the bathroom vanity. But Pansy would never forget the two pink lines running across the test, mocking her with its unwanted answer. Suddenly, a knock came on the door. "Pansy! Blaise and me are worried about you! Let us in!" Draco's familiar voice said. Pansy broke down completely, unlocking the door and curling up on the floor. Upon opening the door, Draco swore at seeing her state, and sat down beside her, cradling her in his arms, murmuring hushed comforts to her. Blaise stared unbelieving at the vanity, his eyes focused on what Pansy knew was the pregnancy test. She cried louder. Draco continued to run his fingers up and down her back as Blaise poured a glass of water for her. "Don't tell anyone. Not yet." She begged. The boys nodded, and she knew they wouldn't tell. They wouldn't tell her secret to anyone.

Pansy Parkinson was pregnant.


	12. Luna Lovegood

**Please review what you thought of this chapter! It would make me sooooooo happy! **

Luna Lovegood

Insanity. Craziness. Coocoo. These were all things Luna and her father were known for. The Quibbler brought in scoffs and laughs from all around the world. The two's eccentric house was held in distaste by many.

Luna wasn't afraid to be herself. She knew what people said about her, but it washed right off her back. She was strong. Her mother and father had raised her that way. The first blow came when Luna was nine. Her mother, her strong, experimental mother, was dead. It just didn't seem possible.

Luna liked to think she looked like her mother. Her mother had always been so strong, and beautiful. The two had the same long blond hair, sparkly blue eyes, and eccentric nature.

The second blow came when her father- well, he just seemed crazier than usual. About a year after her mother's death, roles reversed, and Luna was the one taking care of Xenophilius. She was quite worried to leave her fragile father alone for school, but at the same time, happy to get out of the mad house she called a home.

Upon her return after first year, she found her house had fallen apart. Luna kept it a well guarded secret, however. She didn't want to be taken away from her father. Even if he wasn't exactly- capable, we'll say, of taking care of his eleven year old daughter.

She didn't.

As stressful as her life was, Luna was quite happy, but not oblivious. She could hear. And understand. And cry.

People teased her everyday. They would tease her about her house, her father, her family's magazine, and just her herself. It hurt. A lot. But she'd just smile and tell them they're were some nigglebothers in the air around them, and walk away. But she knew what bullying was.

Luna wasn't as happy as she seemed. She was extremely worried about her father, her marks, whether she had friends, and just life itself. She couldn't take much more.

Luna Lovegood was falling apart.


End file.
